


Blue

by mishaacoolins



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Color Blindness, Depressed Dean, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Female Castiel, Gay, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Kid Fic, Supportive Sam, Tumblr Prompt, colorless, i wrote this for class, their daughter is gay, this is really stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:58:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6028603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishaacoolins/pseuds/mishaacoolins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been waiting to meet his soulmate and see color since he was a child, one day he meets Cassandra and his wishes come true. But thing don't aways go to plan.</p><p>//</p><p>Or the one where I suck at describing shit and it's a tumblr prompt, and also a short story I wrote for my creative writing class. This fic basically focus' on Dean and his daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue

I remember when I was little, the astonishment I felt when my first grade teacher told me people could see in color. She went on to tell us about the color blue, that it was the color of the sky, the color of the ocean, and the color of longing and sadness. She said all this with a smile on her face; It was her favorite color. It was the color of her soulmates eyes, and it soon became my favorite as well. 

I remember asking her when I would meet my soulmate, she told the class that people start meeting their soulmates when their minds reach a certain point of maturity. It happens at different times for everybody, and just because you’ve reached that point of your life doesn’t guarantee that it will happen right off the bat. Your soulmate could be your best friend or someone you haven’t met yet, but everyone had one. 

I met my one at the young age of twenty two. It was the middle of the winter and I was working part time at my cousins flower shop to help pay for college. The old shop sat right in the middle of town in an old brick building that looked like it could collapse at any minute, but it would turn out to be one of my favorite places. I had always thought it was idiotic that Jo didn’t close during the fall and winter seasons but she told me that the best people come in during those cold months, and she was right. 

When she first walked in, I didn’t notice her. I was too busy helping a customer pick out some lilies for her daughter’s birthday. When I was finished with the lilies woman I started watering a bunch of petunias by the front door, that’s when she came up to me. She tapped me on my shoulder asking for my help, rambling on about needing some flowers for her kitchen. When I turned around and looked at her, there was a brief moment of black and white, until everything around me burst to life. Roses became red, daises became yellow, and Cassandras’ eyes, they became blue. 

To this day I do not think I have ever seen a blue as beautiful as her eyes. They were a dark cobalt with flexes of cerulean, and I fell in love with them the moment I saw them. They held so much emotion, and as I got to know her I began knowing how to read them and how she felt. I had finally known why Mrs. Jackson talked about the color blue in the manner she did. 

Cassandra and I were total opposites and it made us wonder at times why we were soulmates. Cas was in college studying psychology, and there was nothing more she liked to do than curling up on the couch with a book and a hot cup of tea. She was into art and slam poetry and everything that made the world beautiful, as I was not. I went to college for accounting, something I hated, and spent all my free time working on my dad’s beat up old car. I liked watching television shows and drinking my coffee- black. She was a cat person; I was a dog person. She loved the outdoors while I had a distaste for it. About the only thing we could agree on was that fact that we were madly in love with each other. 

We got married when we were twenty five, after spending three years together. The wedding had been beautiful. My brother who I hadn’t seen in months came and so did Cassandra’s four siblings, all of which I was pleased to meet. It only made things better that a week after the wedding I got promoted and we moved to a small city in Kansas where we both agreed to live out the rest of our days. 

Not even a year later, we found out Cassandra was pregnant. We had a little girl to which we decided to name Arabella. She might’ve been the happiest baby in existence, always smiling and babbling. She looked just like her mother. She had Cas’ dark raven like hair and her dimples. The only thing that stopped her from looking just like Cassandra was her eyes, they were green. Cas said they looked like mine but brighter.

Cassandra was a great mother, just like I knew she would be. She dedicated all of her time to Arabella, taking her places, buying her things, treating her like a princess. And Arabella was a princess. I was happy. We were happy.   
It was mid spring, a Thursday, and Arabella had woken up early and ran into mine and Cas’ room. She was jumping in joy, trying to think of words and how to say them. Finally she got the point across that she wanted to go to the park, so I called off work and that’s what we did. Cassandra sadly had a meeting that day and couldn’t get off. So that morning I kissed her, and told her I’d have dinner ready when she got home.

Arabella had a thing for the outdoors even at a young age. She had been running around in the grass, chasing the butterflies with her arms spread wide, pretending she was one. I had packed us a lunch and we spent the day there. The sun was setting when I decided to head home. I had just gotten up to collect Arabella when it happened. My life slowly faded back into black and white. The last color I saw was the sparkling emerald of Arabella’s eyes.   
I had called her over ten times, tears rolling down my cheeks and a confused Arabella in the backseat as we raced down the highway. My head was racing, trying to come up with an explanation for this that didn’t end with Cassandra’s demise. I knew it though I didn’t want to admit. I knew it before I stepped into the hospital that my Cas, my soulmate, was dead. 

It was a car accident. The guy was drunk and didn’t know what happened until it was too late. For years I was angry, livid that the monster who took my life away from me got to live. Yes he’s living the rest of his life in prison, but he’s still living. My life seemed to be nothing but a downhill spiral after that. I fell into a deep depression and I never left my room; I barely even made it to Cas’ funeral. My brother was forced to move in so someone could watch over Arabella as I grieved. At that time, I wanted to die. I felt I had nothing to live for. They fired me at work, and I couldn’t even look my daughter in the face without crying. 

My brother tried talking to me and he tried to make me feel better, but he didn’t know how it felt to have the love of your life taken from you. To have lived for years with the wonderful gift of color, only to have it ripped away from you all at once. He didn’t understand the pain I felt. The longing I had for my wife and a life of color. To have someone around you every day that reminds you of the woman you loved. No. He didn’t understand what I felt.

It wasn’t until the beginning to the summer that I started to feel better. That I felt like I could venture out of my room without breaking down. Arabella was of course happy that her father seemed to be in a better mood and she tried desperately hard to make me happier. She’d give me her toys, she’d kiss me on the cheek when I looked sad, and she would always pick me flowers when on walks. Soon, I felt I could smile again, that things were actually going to be okay. But I couldn’t shake the dark feeling looming over me whenever I went to sleep in that giant bed. It was never the same without her. So I moved back to my hometown with Arabella, and got a job as a mechanic. Everything was finally looking up. 

It was a busy day at work when she came in, and she had aged so much I barley recognized her. But when she smiled I knew it, Mrs. Jackson. She sat with me as I changed her cars tire and we caught up. I asked her questions about her life, and she asked about mine. I told her how I finally understood why she felt so strongly about the color blue. That it wasn’t only the color of sadness, that it was also the color of hope. It was beautiful and complex and that it was the prettiest color that I had seen in my short time of seeing color. I told her about Cassandra’s eyes, and about how I still had dreams about their beauty. She said her condolences, but I didn’t want them. All I wanted to do was thank her for teaching me and giving me something as beautiful as the color blue to look forward to when I was a child. 

It was on Arabella’s fourth birthday that it happened the first time. She had been opening her presents smiling and giggling in joy. She had looked right at me beaming when I saw it. Little tiny splotches of color all around me. It wasn’t prominent, the color looked faded and worn but it was still there. Arabella had just giggled at me then turned back to her present and just like that, the color was gone. I didn’t pay much mind to it. I didn’t want to believe what I saw, I told myself that I was just tired and imagining things. But then it happened again. 

The second time we had been playing at the park. Arabella was in the grass searching for four leaf clovers. I heard a squeal then I saw her running towards me holding the tiny plant by the stem. She handed me the clover screaming that she found one. When she handed me it and her hand touched mine, I saw it. It was slightly brighter this time and I dropped the clover in shock. I looked at her and saw her green eyes shining in happiness. Then as quickly as it came, it was gone. 

This time I knew something was wrong that I wasn’t just imagining it. That night I looked and looked online but found nothing about seeing color after your soulmates death. It scared me, I thought there was something wrong with me, something wrong with my daughter. I had rushed to the doctor the next day, skipping work and not taking Arabella to school. I explained to them what happened and after giving me a few x-rays they told me that there was nothing wrong and that I was probably too stressed and needed more sleep. I had repeated this in my head for weeks, saying that everything was fine and everything was normal. But nothing was normal, nothing was fine.

The third time happened at the fair. Arabella wanted to go on the ferris wheel and I reluctantly agreed. Everything was going smoothly until we reached the top and the wheel stopped letting us look around the scenery below us. She was scared of the height and quickly grabbed my hand, shaking in worry and then it happened again. The lights below us turned different colors, red, yellow, green, blue. Arabella smiled calmly and looked at me. “Do you see it daddy?”

I did. I did see it, even when she let go of my hand. I saw it even after we got off the ride. I saw it two days later, I saw it two months later. It never faded, not that time. I even saw it twenty years later when Arabella met a girl named Carter, and she started seeing color. I saw it when I sat at the front seat at Arabella’s wedding. And I saw it when I first met John, the little boy Arabella and Carter adopted. I saw it up until the end of my days. And as I faded out of consciousness the last thing I saw, was blue.


End file.
